


Sacrifice

by popfly



Series: This Might Help Ficlets [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, First Time, Fix-It, M/M, season three spoilers, this might help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popfly/pseuds/popfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for <a href="http://www.keysmashblog.com">Keysmash</a>'s This Might Help challenge, week three, episode 3.03 "Fireflies".</p>
    </blockquote>





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Keysmash](http://www.keysmashblog.com)'s This Might Help challenge, week three, episode 3.03 "Fireflies".

“I don’t need you to check up on me,” Derek says, sitting up with a wince. Scott is standing just inside the loft door, Isaac hovering over his shoulder as usual, his mouth set in a grim line.

“I’m not checking up on you,” Scott says, and glances back at Isaac. “I have something I have to tell you.”

“What?”

“The bodies that were found - “

“Bodies?” Isaac says, and Derek sits up straighter, ignoring the pain that arcs through him from every wound that’s still healing. “How many are there now?”

“Three, maybe four,” Scott says, and Derek struggles to his feet.

“The Alphas?” he asks, and he’s already going for his shoes, glad he’s already changed clothes, pushing thoughts of fighting the Alphas when he’s not 100% out of his mind as best he can. If he has Isaac and Scott - 

“No. This is something else.”

“What else?” Isaac moves closer to Scott, something Scott doesn’t notice but Derek definitely does. He shoves the hurt and betrayal back down and nods at Scott to continue.

“We don’t know. But Stiles says the murders aren’t just murders. They’re sacrifices. Someone or something is killing virgins as human sacrifices.” 

“Virgins?” Derek asks, and Scott nods, while Isaac blushes red over his shoulder. Derek glances at him, and Isaac shakes his head, clears his throat.

“I’m, uh,” he starts, and this time it’s Scott that shifts closer, eyes darting guiltily around the loft. “I’m safe.”

“Good.” This new threat will be easier to handle if everyone he knows is safe. Then Isaac’s head jolts up, and he grabs Scott’s elbow.

“Stiles.”

Scott’s eyes go wide. “Fuck. I didn’t even think - and then I left him alone to come here - “

Derek’s out the door before he even knows what he’s doing, and he’s standing on Stiles’s porch before a single thought breaks through the static of panic in his brain. He doesn’t know when he started thinking of Stiles as someone he has to protect, but he knows he can’t let him be a sacrifice to whatever evil thing Derek’s drawn to Beacon Hills. 

When Stiles pulls the door open, eyes rimmed red, Derek is totally at a loss for what to say.

“Derek,” Stiles says, and runs the sleeve of his plaid shirt over his face. “What are you doing here?”

Derek thinks of how he could answer. ‘Scott told me about the virgins and the first thing I wanted to do was run here?’ ‘I was worried about you?’ ‘Let me get my hand on your dick so you don’t get killed by some psycho?’

He almost laughs at that, and recognizes that he may be a little hysterical. He takes a deep breath, exhaling sharply through his nose, and tells the truth.

“Scott told me about the sacrifices. You’re the only virgin I know.”

Stiles makes a face that would be hilarious in other circumstances, embarrassed and huffy, his arms crossing over his chest. “So what, you’re just going to follow me around and glare until I either get some or get killed?”

“No,” Derek says, and mirrors Stiles’s stance.

“Gonna take my v-card to keep me safe?” is Stiles’s next question, sarcasm as his best defense, but Derek can hear the skip of his heartbeat and see something like hope in his eyes.

“Would you want that? You could always find a girl - “

“No,” Stiles says, cutting Derek off, and his face goes tight, eyes welling with tears. “No girls. At least, not right now.”

“Then Scott maybe, as buddies - “

Stiles cuts Derek off again, but this time he does it by swaying forward and kissing him, almost missing Derek’s mouth entirely as he goes off-balance, sliding his lips along Derek’s until they’re flush. Derek’s eyebrows fly up, a jolt of pain shooting up his arm as their elbows bang together, and then Stiles pulls back, already babbling.

“Holy shit, Derek, I didn’t, I mean, you didn’t mean, holy shit.”

Derek reaches forward, takes Stiles by the shoulders, and looks him in the eye.

“I mean it. Offer’s on the table, Stiles, take it or leave it.” What Derek doesn’t say is please, but he thinks it Now that he’s here he wants it, to keep Stiles safe, but also, selfishly, to see where all the snark and tension and antagonizing could lead them if Derek let it.

Stiles chews his lip and then gusts out a sigh. “My dad won’t be home for a while,” he says, and steps aside to let Derek in.

They don’t talk, all the way up the stairs and into Stiles’s room, through Derek slowly stripping and then undressing Stiles, and it’s weird because Derek had expected - had thought, the few times he let himself - that Stiles would talk non-stop, words running away from him the way they do when he’s nervous. But he’s quiet, too quiet, and Derek finds himself trying to get a noise out of him - a gasp, a moan, anything.

It isn’t until Stiles is on edge, Derek’s hand wrapped around both of them as they rub together, Stiles’s hips moving restlessly on the bed, that he makes a sound. He stares right into Derek’s eyes, neck a long pale arch, and says, “God, Derek.” And then comes all over Derek’s fist.

It’s so good, Stiles shuddering underneath him, that Derek doesn’t want to stop. And, “I’m not sure if that counts.”

Stiles is panting, harsh little breaths that are driving Derek crazy, and Derek presses his face against Stiles’s throat. “What do you mean?”

Derek loosens his grip, slides his hand down behind Stiles’s balls and presses one come-slicked fingertip to Stiles’s hole.

“Oh,” Stiles says, and the brashness is back in his voice, making Derek grin against the thin skin behind his ear. “Well, we should probably be sure I don’t killed on a technicality.”

Exactly what Derek was thinking.


End file.
